Sleep, Perchance To Dream
by Alatariel-Galadriel
Summary: Dick just wants Tim to take care of himself.


Dick trudged along the manor's hallway. It had been a grueling patrol in Gotham, and an even more grueling week. Bruce had called him from Bludhaven earlier that evening-last night now-for a particularly messy and difficult case.

Dick stopped walking when he noticed a strip of light from under a door, and at a second glance, he realized it was Tim's room. Tim, whom he had sent to bed three hours ago when patrol had officially ended, with exhaustion in every line of his body.

Eyes narrowing, Dick silently pushed Tim's door open and walked inside. Tim had his back to him, curled up in a chair by his desk, with his laptop on his lap and earbuds in. Dick's neck ached just looking at him, but the awkward position didn't seem to faze Tim, who was typing at a mile a minute.

Realizing that Tim still had no clue he was there, Dick smiled and crept closer. It was rare to get the drop on Tim, who was usually hypervigilant. He positioned himself behind Tim, and then grabbed Tim's shoulder with one hand, pulling out his earbuds with the other.

Tim jumped about a mile, nearly knocking his laptop onto the floor, fumbling for a few seconds.

"Relax, Babybird, it's just me." Dick laughed and flopped his arms over Tim's shoulders, resting his chin on Tim's head. His amusement was tempered slightly by concern. Tim's reaction time was off.

"Dick." Tim said curtly.

"I'm going to choose to believe that you just meant my name". Dick said lightly. Tim huffed out a breath.

"No, you're just a dick." The tiniest tinge of amusement colored Tim's flat voice, so Dick counted it as a win.

"What'chu working on at this hour, Timmy? I thought I told you to go rest." Dick glanced at Tim's computer, noting the time. Five AM. Too early. Tim grunted.

"Case work." Even Tim's voice sounded exhausted, more so than what would be typical for one late night. Dick let go of Tim, who hunched back over his computer.

He walked around Tim's chair and sat on the desk across from him, moving aside some empty coffee mugs.

"You sound tired, Tim." He stated, watching as Tim tensed up slightly.

"I'm fine." Tim didn't even look up.

"Tim." Tim glanced at him, and-

"Jesus, Timmy, you look like _shit_."

Dick hadn't actually seen Tim's face sans mask since he arrived. Tim's eyes were bloodshot enough to be concerning, and the bags under his eyes had grown so dark they looked like bruises. Tim looked back down at the computer quickly, tensing up even further.

"When was the last time you actually slept, Tim?" He asked.

"Look, Dick, I actually need to finish this, Bruce and I have been on this case for long enough." Tim started typing again, ignoring Dick, which meant the answer was 'too long'.

"Tim. Do you want me to go ask Alfred? You and I both know he probably has a running clock." Dick stared at Tim until Tim started fidgeting.

"Um… like…fiftysixhoursgiveortake." Tim rushed, avoiding eye contact. Before Dick could interject, Tim moved on.

"But I _have_ to get this done, Dick. Bruce's relying on me to finish this and the sooner I finish, the sooner this whole case can be over, and the sooner people stop dying." Tim stared stubbornly at Dick, who had the sudden urge to smack his own head into the wall.

He hated it when Tim got like this, when he was so obsessed with his work and the so-called "greater good" that he completely ignored his own needs. Last time Timmy was like this, he worked himself until he literally collapsed halfway through patrol, practically giving Dick a heart attack.

Trying to talk him into stopping was probably useless, but still worth a try.

"Timbo, look, I get it, I really do, but you're going to work yourself to death! This isn't healthy. " Tim's expression didn't change. Dick tried to go the "logical" route.

"Bruce needs to be able to rely on your information. Your information isn't going to be accurate when you're in this state." Tim blinked a bit at that, processing. He glanced down at his screen and bit his lip, evidently weighing the options, and Dick felt a flash of hope that maybe- and Tim shook his head, resuming his challenging stare.

Dick inwardly cursed. When Tim got stubborn, it would take a miracle to get him to back down. Dick was going to have to be sneakier. Tim would be angry at him later, but Dick could deal with that.

"Since you're clearly not going to listen to me and sleep, I'll help." He sighed, shutting his eyes and rubbing the bridge of his nose. Tim jumped a little, a tinge of guilt in his eyes.

"But you need to-" Tim started, but Dick cut him off.

"I'll go make some coffee. We'll need it" Dick hopped off the table, biting back a groan as his body protested, and walked out the door as the sound of Tim's typing filled the room.

-0-

Dick rummaged through the kitchen cabinets as the coffee brewed. He knew Alfred kept them somewhere-aha! He triumphantly pulled out a bottle full of sleeping pills. Alfred always kept them handy. When the coffee was brewed and poured, Dick carefully ground a pill into powder and stirred it in.

Tim was tiny (and tired) enough that he probably only needed half of a pill, but Dick wasn't taking any chances tonight. He poured himself some into a bright blue mug, not planning on drinking it. With the two mugs carefully in hand, he made the trip back upstairs.

-0-

When Dick walked back into Tim's room, Tim looked worse than ever, but he was still typing like his life depended on it. Dick set his mug on the table, and then looked at Tim. For the second time that night, Tim hadn't noticed him enter. The kid was really out of it. He tapped Tim's shoulder, ignoring his startled twitch, and offered out the mug.

Tim snatched the coffee from Dick's hand. Then he chugged the entire mug, setting it on the desk when he was done. Dick stood there in mild disbelief at Tim's speed, but hey, he wasn't complaining if it got Tim to sleep faster. Tim curled back up in his chair and was still typing, but his speed was noticeably slower.

Dick sat on the edge desk to wait for a few minutes, watching in amusement as Tim's eyes started drooping and his typing gradually petered out. After his head had nodded one, twice, a realization dawned on Tim's face. He stared at his coffee mug, and then twisted to stare at Dick with a look of utter betrayal

"D-did, um, did y-you…" Tim frowned, his brow furrowing in concentration, "Did you give me _decaf_?!"

Dick almost snorted. Tim's head lolled a bit, but his glare was still in place as he waited for an answer.

"Nope, Timmy, no decaf today. Just a sleeping pill." He reassured, shifting his weight off the desk.

Tim blinked owlishly a few times. Dick bit back a smile. He was fairly sure his little brother's brain had stopped processing after he heard the words 'no decaf'

"Oh, okay" Tim exhaled, confirming Dick's suspicion. Tim shifted back in his seat, staring non-comprehendingly at his laptop. He listed sidewise after a few seconds, almost tipping out of the chair, his eyes just barely staying open. Dick grabbed Tim's laptop before it could slide onto the floor and set it on the desk, hitting ctrl+s before shutting it off.

Tim shifted slightly behind him, uttering a vaguely pissed off "Dick…"

He held the 'i' for just a little too long, making him sound more than a little drunk, but bingo! The realization had hit. Dick was honestly surprised Tim was still somewhat conscious, much less able to deduce anything, so points to him. Dick turned and started carefully shifting Tim to pick him up.

"Y're th'worsst." Tim slurred as Dick lifted him, bridal style. Tim squirmed slightly in protest, but Dick was fairly certain Tim wouldn't even be able to fight off a kitten right now.

"Yeah, you keep telling yourself that, Timbers." He was kind of alarmed by how little Tim weighed, but that was a battle for another day.

He deposited Tim on the bed, pulling the covers out from him. Tim made one last effort to get back up, barely getting his shoulders of the mattress. Dick gently pushed him back down, and then tucked the covers over him.

"Sorry, Timbo, but you need to sleep." Dick didn't even try to sound apologetic, or to cover the amusement in his voice.

"…hate you." Tim mumbled.

"Yeah, I love you too Timmers." Dick smiled as Tim's eyes slid shut.

Dick grabbed Tim's laptop off of the desk to hold hostage later. Hesitating at the door, he glanced back at Tim, now fully asleep.

"Sleep tight, little brother" He quietly shut the door behind him.


End file.
